Beneath my fingers I feel the smooth silky paper. br Somewhere within my head, a poem’s carefully strung. br Then one will be committed to join with the other, br When it has been carefully sprung. br br Beneath my fingers I see the strong tough paper. br Somewhere within my head a poem’s shining through. br Then one will be exhibited, joined with the other, br Where they will be seen, shining new. br br Beneath my fingers I hear the crisp firm paper. br Somewhere within my head a poem’s freedom bound. br When one will be entrusted to join with the other, br Then freedom will at last be found.